


30 Drabbles

by Venivincere



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabbles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:37:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2790215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venivincere/pseuds/Venivincere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Selections from the House of Drabble. All slash. Ratings vary, PG to NC-17.</p>
            </blockquote>





	30 Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> House of Drabble was a varying group of people who met on IM Friday nights in and around 2004 to drabble together. Someone would offer up a prompt, a pairing, and often the word count we needed to work toward and then we'd take 15 minutes to write the drabble then share them around when we were done. A typical night had us doing three or four rounds. We went for close to a year doing these.
> 
> I collected 30 of the ones I wrote and archived them at Skyehawke on October 31, 2004 here:  
> http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=4543  
> http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=4544  
> http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=4546  
> http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=4547  
> http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=4548  
> http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=4549

  
**Transfiguration. Draco/Any Weasley. 145 words. Given by Cluegirl**

Ron'd improved at Transfiguration beginning his third year, with the new wand. He practiced hard, and the spells flowed through his arm, and sometimes he really wondered whether he needed to voice the words to shape his intentions.

His first attempt was unintentional, but it worked -- he pointed, he *willed* and the little buzzing fly dropped like a stone, and Ron grinned a wintry little grin. It really was too easy. So he practiced all the time, on the spiders that came near him during Care of Magical Creatures, in the dorm where the late spring flies tried for his sweat. Each little annoyance turned to stone and forgotten, without much thought.

Such a second-nature thing it became that it was others who noticed Draco at his cauldron first, face set permanently in a sneer, the muttered insult dead on his cold, stone lips.

 

 

**"Faster and faster / They vanish into darkness / our years together." (Wendy Cope) Snape/Dumbledore**

"I rescued, you, you know."  
"I know."  
"You needed it."  
"I know."  
"It's been so long, now... we never talk about it. But I wonder -- "  
"What do you wonder, Albus?"  
"What would you have done if I had said no?"  
"..."  
"Would you have gone back to him?"  
A pause, "No."  
"I didn't think so. But what would you have done?"  
"I don't know. I never had to think about it."  
"You were at the end of your rope."  
"I was."  
"I tied a knot for you."  
"You did."  
"I am at the end of mine."  
"I know.  
"You were the only one. Ever. Did you know?"  
"I guessed."  
"Faster and faster, they vanish into the darkness, our years together."  
"Behind the Veil, we will meet. We'll have more time then. Truly."  
"I have to believe you, you know."  
"You know we will."  
"I trust you."  
"I know."

 

 

**Remus/Neville, new scars -- Goosey.**

"And this one? I got that during the battle of Hogsmeade."

"Neville -- how did you manage to get a  _green_  scar?"

"I was outside of Gladrags when it exploded. It -- they had their Nev-R-Fade line of robes in the window...part of a green one got permanently imbedded."

"It's the color of  _Avada_ \--"

"I know."

Neville felt Lupin move lower, and the breath caught in his throat as Lupin rolled him onto his stomach. They hadn't done  _this_  yet, hadn't marked each other  _this_  way, though they'd done about everything else two men could do with each other. Neville was more than ready.

"Hurry."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"It's alright, really. Please. I want scars I can be happy having."

 

 

**Snape/Draco, a new colour -- PJ**

When Draco came to Hogwarts, he arrived with the firm conviction he would wear the Slytherin Green with pride to the end of his career. When he joined the Slytherin Quidditch team, he wore his silver-chased uniform in the knowledge that he would remain on the team until he left school. When his father took him to Voldemort, he held out his arm for the dead, black inscription with the knowledge that he would wear it to his grave.

When Snape took him into his bed and into his heart, Draco permanently bound the plain gold band to his finger, desperate to believe that he could take this to the grave as well, horribly fearful that that fateful moment would happen too soon. But Snape took him another place, too. Snape took him to Dumbledore and gave Draco a new color to add to his collection -- bright white hope.

 

 

**Sirius/James. The day he asked the question -- Amanuensis**

Usually, it was Sirius leading James around while pranking. Today, though, James took the lead, saying "Come on! We're going to miss her!"

"Miss who?" asked Sirius.

"Lily, you pillock!"

"James, you're not on about her again, are you? Because after the squid incident, mate, I don't think..."

"Sirius, please! This is important!"

"More important than this?" he slipped his fingers into James' belt and tried to tug him back for a kiss, but James shook him off, eyes glued to the form in front of him... and Sirius was suddenly aware it was Lily, standing near the lake, standing and waiting...

James approached her, pulling the little ring box out of his pocket, and suddenly Sirius knew what today's prank would be, and knew by the look in Lily's eyes that it wasn't a prank, that James' new beginning was Sirius' own bitter end.

 

  
**Harry/Draco, Did you think I cared? Issued by Isolde.**

It was one month, and nothing more special happened than a quick snog behind the tapestry on the third floor. Harry didn't think much of it.

It was three months, and Harry brought a red rose. Draco brought nothing, but they kissed and touched for hours.

It was six months, and Harry brought a vial of sweet oil. Draco arrived half an hour late, and drew the line at mutual hand-jobs. Harry left disappointed, but he noticed Draco was humming.

It was nine months, and Harry hadn't shown in their usual spot for the last two. Draco still showed. And for all his desire to be the aloof one in their relationship, Harry's unmentioned, unconcerned absence told the truer tale.

 

 

**Snape/?, "life remains a blessing although you cannot bless." Goosey.**

Spying wasn't safe. Snape knew first hand, knew viscerally, with every brand on his arse and every hasty, rude fuck in his mouth, just how dangerous it was. It was his choice, though, and because he got to choose with his mind when so many people were co-opted by their hearts, he had a distance in his perspective that others didn't have.

Snape chose the side of light with his eyes wide open. So, when Voldemort took Snape and used him in haste, when he madly, irrationally cursed Snape for some minor infraction, when the depths of his insanity began to be apparent to even the dimmest of his followers, Snape never lost hope. He never lost sight of his great good fortune, even when Crucio descended on him in a dark and nerve-shattering benediction.

 

 

**Dragon issued. Ron/Draco, puppies.**

Harry tackled animagus transformations first thing in DA his 6th year. If nothing else, it was a good way to hide from prying eyes. He and Ron and Hermione practiced incessantly, but it was Harry who was first to achieve his form.

Ron's came later, about the same time as Draco's, but he was loathe to share it with anyone other than Harry. Draco's only objection was that Harry made them train together. Well, his only objection until he introduced the newspaper. One sniff, and he immediately changed from puppy to boy.

"I'm not fetching that!"

Puppy Ron panted at him from the floor and drooled.

"Who said anything about fetching?" said Harry.

"Well, then what else would it be for?"

Harry smiled and placed it on the floor.

Draco watched, confused, until Ron, in all his fluffy red panting, took up the explanation by raising his leg to pee.

 

 

**Oliver/Any "Swish and Flick" Issued by Ygrane**

Quidditch was Oliver's strategy for life. He was good at it, and he applied to his life the same strategic principles he used to win games. It didn't come as any surprise to anyone that with Oliver, Quidditch ranked higher than NEWTs. They had a chance to win the Cup this year, and good strategy required winning it so he would look good to the recruiting scouts. This year's team was quite good, even if he did have trouble maintaining control.

Oliver had a strategy for that, too. When Fred and George showed up late for practice, he made them stay after, stay naked after their shower. He made them bend over the changing benches. And with his best swish and flick, he directed the beater's bats to smack the arses of their wielders until they understood that Quidditch came first, that it was meant to be their strategy, too.

 

 

**Snape/Anyone, "In for a penny, in for a pound." Issued by Sushi**

Snape made a choice, and it wasn't an easy one, but it was the right one. At least he could sleep at night, now, unafraid in a well-protected bed, even if he was surrounded by the children of his former compatriots. They didn't know that this wasn't the exciting part, that here, he felt relief.

As much as he could feel, anyway. Dumbledore expected the naked truth, and spent time, tea and mountains of sweets to coax it out of him. When that didn't work, he coaxed Snape with a touch on the shoulder, a caress of his side. When Snape was particularly intransigent, he shifted his hand to the front of Snape's robes, and rubbed and caressed the truth out of him that way. The choice to tell the truth wasn't easy, sometimes, but he was in for a penny, he may as well be in for a pound.

 

  
**Sirius/Remus Resurrection**

It shouldn't have been possible, but Sirius was returned from the Veil, and Remus could already see the Prophet headlines and the reams of parchment from the property disposition hearings, and much later, the dragonhide-bound scholarly theories mouldering in the better libraries of the wizarding world.

Those were visions in his head, though, and the reality was standing in front of him in defiance of all lost hope. Sirius was blazing sun after 40 days of rain, a promise of renewal, a rainbow of color after Remus had resigned himself to a slow death in grey. Sirius was alive. Sirius came back, and he was, therefore, a living example of hope and promise. But it was Remus who was resurrected.

 

 

**Harry/Ron (and a girl of your choice, if you wish), fertility ceremony**

"This should be done at the equinox, Ron," said Hermione, though she wasn't going to pick at nits.  
"I just don't understand why I have to do this with Harry, first, though!"  
"Ron!" said Harry and Hermione together.  
"We've explained three times! Quit stalling!" said Hermione, and  
"What I'm not good enough for you?" said Harry, at the same time.  
"Fine! Just -- fine, then! Harry?"  
"Oi! That hurts! Don't you ever do this to yourself?  
"Harry, think -- we wouldn't be here if I hadn't been getting lots in the first place!"  
"Well, don't yank so hard."  
"But the rite's all about the rising sap, and..."  
"Nothing's going to rise but my temper if you keep on like that!"  
"How about..."  
"Oh! That's... very good! Keep... Ron, say the charm! Say the charm!"  
"Newborn babes and dawning Spring, raise my sap like Harry's thing!"  
"Hermione, it worked! Hermione! ...Hermione?"

 

 

**Venivincere Lucius/Snape -- "Never again"**

The battle raged through the mansion, but Snape was no longer fighting. The moment he had moved to protect Harry, that had been that. Lucius had captured him and thrown him in the dungeon, and was (along with being thankful to be out of the heat of battle) quite excited about the thought of Snape hanging on the wall, helpless.

The dungeon shook, and Lucius removed Snape's clothing. The ceiling rained dust, and Lucius yanked up Snape's knees and hung them over his shoulders. The metal doors to the dungeon crashed as Lucius drove his rock-hard prick into Snape's arse, as he'd done so many times as punishment, as reward.

Harry appeared over Lucius' shoulder, and Snape kept his pained expression unchanged.

"Avada Kedavra!" Lucius slumped, and slid out of him.

"Never again, Severus. It's over."

But something new began.

 

 

 

**Dragon asked for Harry/Remus, and I issued "cross that bridge when we come to it."**

Every meeting with Remus was an effort in catching up. Not that that was a real  _effort_  -- Harry enjoyed Remus' company more than most anyone's since Sirius was gone -- but there was never enough time anymore to write proper letters, and when they finally did meet up, there was so much to say.

More each time, really. More to tell, more to hear, more to share, and more desire to do it more often, to lean in close and brush the backs of their hands together as they sat on the sofa in the parlor of 12 Grimmauld Place talking and laughing, thigh to thigh.

Hip to hip. Finger to hand, warmth tracing each touch, a reminder, a promise, a visceral testament to why they made the effort.

 

 

**Group effort. Paring by Dragon. Topic, me. Harry/Remus, "Presents"**

Christmas was quite a bit more intimate Harry's sixth year. He was once again at Grimmauld place, but not due to tragedy. Or not really. He was in hiding, yes, but it seemed more like holiday, with Remus there. It was just the two of them Christmas morning, and even though it caused Harry to feel a moment of awkwardness at the state of his arousal, Remus marched right in after a cursory knock and dumped a mound of presents at Harry's feet.

"Look what the owl dragged in!"

Harry dragged himself up and leaned against the headboard, bunching the blankets in his lap. "Remus! ...Happy Christmas!" he gulped. "I...feel guilty...there wasn't time to get you - to get anyone anything, this year..."

"Not to worry." He plunked himself down on the bed next to Harry, and placed his hand directly on the mound between Harry's legs. "I like homemade presents best." 

 

 

  
**Bible challenges. This one's from Femme: Ezekiel 18:4 Behold, all souls are mine; as the soul of the father, so also the soul of the son is mine: the soul that sinneth, it shall die. (Voldemort/Draco)**

"You were Mine then." Voldemort gently pinched Lucius' chin and lifted it, staring.  
"Yes, my Lord." Lucius' eyes locked with Voldemort's.  
"You are Mine now."  
"Yes, my Lord."  
"All that you have, all that you are is Mine." He wasn't blinking.  
"Yes."  
"Your position, your wealth, your  _soul_ , Lucius, Mine. All Mine."  
"Yes, my Lord! Yours! You know it!" His eyes watered with the effort not to blink.  
"Your blood is mine," Voldemort grinned as the moisture trickled out of Lucius' eye.  
"My Lord?"  
"Your line, Lucius. Your issue. Your  _Draco_. Mine."  
"Lord!" He trembled. A door opened in the shadows behind Voldemort's back, and a pale and pointed child appeared, naked. Trembling turned to violent shaking.  
"Lucius, are you scared? Have you no faith?"  
"My Lord -"  
"I require faith, Lucius. You know the price."  
"But - my son!"  
"I expected better of you, Lucius. He raised his wand.  _Crucio_.

 

 

**Clue. twins/Harry -- You can't have any**

"No, you can't have any of that," said Fred, reaching over a still-thrumming George .  
"Why not?" asked Harry, well recovered and ready for another round.  
"We haven't perfected that one, yet."  
"What's to perfect?" said Harry, grabbing the bottle back from Fred. "It's just lube --"  
"Its  _not_  just lube, Harry!" Fred made a grab for the bottle, but missed. "It's got -- Harry, no!"  
"This feels wonderful!" said Harry, slicking it down his cock, sliding his fingers underneath his balls. Each trailing touch stayed alight on his skin, each pass doubling the sensation in that spot. Within moments, Harry bucked and shouted, coming in quick, high spurts like a fountain. But the sensations didn't ease. Each splat burned hot on his cock and balls.  
"Ow! How long --"  
"Six hours." Fred grinned. "You're naughty, Harry. But you're going to be naughtier before it's through with you!"

 

 

**I issued this one: Lucius/Harry, based on Ǽsop's Fable 'The Flies and the Honey Pot'**

Lucius had many names for it. With Snape, it was Fucking. With Narcissa, it was Conjugal Duty. With Draco, it was Wrong, and Making Love. With Muggles, it was Torture, or Just Desserts, or plain old Revenge.

He didn't always know what to call it with Harry. Sometimes it was sweet and sultry like the pollen-laden air of early summer that wafted moist and fertile and fragrant over the meadows of the Malfoy estate. Sometimes it was hazy and smoky, a warm silken tendril twining about his cock and slowly teasing the yeasty come out of him in long, ropy strands.

Mostly, though, it was smooth, steady and strong, like treading water, the pace slow enough to sustain until he was suddenly at the end of his strength and wondering if he could make it to shore.

Yes, with Harry it was mostly like that. So Lucius called it Drowning.

 

 

**I proposed Snape/Draco, based on Ǽsop's Fable 'The Crow and the Serpent'**

Snape laughed long and hard when he found out Lucius Malfoy went to Azkaban. Being avenged by those who jailed Lucius was terribly sweet, but so was revenge. And now that Snape was out of Lucius' range (though the opposite wasn't true), he could affect his revenge immediately. He called Draco to him in his rooms that very night.

"I've waited so long for this..."

Snape hadn't expected to hear that. And he also didn't expect that the slide of Draco's cock on his own would draw out the need for vengeance, massage it out of him like the knots in a tense muscle and liquidate it forever in a sea of mutual delight. And he certainly didn't expect to be consumed by Draco, entranced and loved and  _changed_ , to be taken as he had not himself chosen to take.

 

 

**Snape/Lupin, "Winning by a nose" Issued by Isiscolo**

Everyone knew that one of the identifying characteristics of the werewolf was the length of the nose. It was one of the characteristics Snape recorded month after month as he tinkered with the wolfsbane potion and observed Lupin during his change. He carefully recorded the effects of each change, and contemplated the fact that this one measurement never changed, month after month. 

What was less well-known was the ability of certain potions to permanently transfigure the one who takes it. Snape knew all the transfiguring potions, and fiddled yet again with the wolfsbane, with one in particular in mind. And next moon, that particular measurement changed.

The wolf never did, again. 

 

 

  
**Sharpie. Draco/Ron, Ennervate.**

"Oh, shite! Draco, get me off him!"  
"Potter, have you been here all this time? WHAT D'YOU THINK I'VE BEEN TRYING TO DO!"  
"Swearing at your wand and chuntering under your breath will NOT get us unstuck. Just what did you curse him with, anyway?"  
"Er..."  
"Draco?"  
"I might have cast  _'Copula Mortis'_  on him."  
"Dra - 'Copula Mortis'?  _you cast the 'fuck yourself to death' curse on him?"_  
"Well, I wanted him to last for you. He comes like a jackrabbit."  
"Draco! Look, if you don't cast a counter-curse him soon, Ron's going to  _kill_  you when he wakes!"  
 _"Septua!"_  
"Try again."  
 _"Scourgify!"_  
"Draco, I am NOT a clod of dirt!"  
"That's arguable, you know. I've seen you after Quidditch Practice."  
"Draco..."  
 _"Ennervate!"_  
"Ron! Are you all right?"  
"Harry? Whaa -- ?"  
"It was all Potter's fault, Weasley!"  
 _"Draco!!!"_

 

 

**Sparrow. Snape/Hagrid, a little experiment.**

"Are yeh sure it's safe, Perfessor?"  
"Of course I'm sure! I brewed it, didn't I?"  
"Aye, that yeh did. Here goes, then!"  
"There! What did I tell you? Wait - don't answer, we won't have much time."  
"How long d'you reckon we've got?"  
"About an hour, but it wears off slowly. We should have enough warning."  
"It'll be nice to return to yeh a bit o' what yeh give me."  
"I look forward to it, too. But hurry -"  
~*~*~*~*~  
"Th' bed's so big like this - I ain't seen one this big since I was a wee lad o' nine!"  
"Less talk, more thrusting, Hagrid."  
"Oh, sorry there, Perfessor."  
~*~*~*~*~  
"Ahhh! Hagrid, harder!"  
"Oh! Perfessor! Yes! Yer so tight -- so tight! Oh! Ah!"  
"I - you idiot! You're returning to your normal size! Pull out! Hagrid, do you hear me?"  
"Ah! Oh! Aaaaaahhhh!"  
"Ow! AAAAAAH! OW!"  
"Oh! Oh, oh dear.... Perfessor?"

 

 

**Sharpie. Snape/Lucius, timeturner**

"How many more will fit, do you think?"  
"We've got room for two more, I think."  
"Hey, we've already started!"  
"Where?"  
"Over there!"  
"Hurry, then!"  
"Got it!"  
"That's too many turns!"  
"No it isn't, you're not paying attention!."  
"Look! There we are. Leave the note!"  
"Oh - we'd better - "  
"There! We took it!"  
"OK, let's get back..."  
"Ahh! It's too crowded!"  
"No, look over there, at the end of the chair..."  
"Here, let me get inside you. You, over there! Yes, YOU, Lucius, at the front of the line! Walk the line around and get in me, quick!"  
"Hey, Snape - I think I'm going to come."  
"Me, too!  
"Oh, ungh! Me too!"  
"Hurry!"  
"Aahhhh!"  
"Oooh!"  
"Mmmmmm!"  
"Lucius, did you bring the recorder? Are you getting all this?"  
"Got it! Think we could persuade more of us to come?"  
"We'd have to get a bigger room..."

 

 

**Challenge given by Isiscolo. Snape/Lupin. Snape was bitten in the Shrieking Shack incident.**

It was almost the same, but not quite. Lupin preferred how it was in the past, running in the moon with Prongs and Padfoot, and Wormtail, when he could keep up. Certain things were the same. He could count on the silver smell of night, the pungent, crackling air splashing out to the sides as he ran, like the bow wave from a ship's prow. He never ran when there weren't the focused sounds of the night punctuating the rhythm of his pace.

Snape never played with him the way the others used to. He took each sensation as seriously as he did himself, but he ran alongside as the junior member of this tiny pack of two -- not as an equal. He could be close with Snape at the full of the moon, close like a father to a son, but it wasn't the same as having brothers.

 

 

**Remus/Anyone. Look before you leap. Given by Isiscolo.**

Sirius always had more energy than the rest of them, constantly leaping around them, frolicking, jumping, exploring away those full-moon nights. He always woke in the morning as refreshed and raring to go on two hours' sleep as on eight. There was nothing indolent about his beauty, and Remus, kneeling by the empty grave remembered other energy spent...

Sirius leaping onto the bed, shocking Remus awake with a hasty "Silencio!" and mostly-drawn curtains, and lips and hands, and wet and darting tongue, and "OH!" and thrusts and uncontrolled shuddering and spilling, and a leap from the bed before the others woke.

He leapt to Harry's aid. Sirius always jumped up to help anyone in need.

Sirius always jumped around. Remus wept into his hands. Puppies always leapt before they looked.

 

**Dungeons & Dragons, Lucius/Bill Weasley. Given by Cluegirl**  
  
Thrust.  
  
"How is that?" asked Lucius.  
  
Thrust.  
  
"Feeling that, yet?"  
  
"Ungh." It was barely a sound, but Bill couldn't utter anything louder.  
  
"Come now," thrust "you can do better than that." Thrust. "You're younger than me," thrust "surely you've got another go in you." Thrust, yank. The neckbones in the collar cracked.  
  
Bill was silent.  
  
"Well, perhaps not." Thrust. "Your brother didn't last very long." Thrust.  
  
Bill uttered nothing; the collar choked him. But he thought about how Lucius hated killing his enemies too fast, how if one of them died before he was done playing with them, he would take another and another in revenge until he had his satisfaction. Bill managed a smile -- a grimace, really, as the blackness crept in from the edges and he was spurting thick strands on the dungeon floor, because he felt Lucius coming too. No one else would be taken tonight.  
  
  
  
 **Neville/Draco, _The Satanic Verses_. Issued by Sparrowhawk.**  
  
Neville may be a pureblood, but that doesn't mean Draco shows much respect for him. In Potions, he scribbles all over Neville's notes, but Neville doesn't mind since they study from Draco's notes anyway. In Care of Magical Creatures, he pokes Neville's crup with a stick until it tries to climb the wall of its pen. Neville feeds it valerian to calm it. In Herbology, he cuts the leaves off Neville's Devil's Snare. Neville patches them back on and raps Draco over the knuckles with his wand.  
  
Probably the most blatant disrespect comes at night when they abandon their studies and their clothes and their upright, pureblood morals and fuck. Draco breathes words of hate in Neville's ear, verses of scalding vituperation that feed Neville's fetish for demoralization and humiliation, that make him come with shame on Draco's satin-lined pillow.  
  
  
  
  
 **Severus/Voldemort, _The Left Hand of Darkness_. Issued by Goseaward.**  
  
It was over, and Severus was forced to pray.  
  
"We believe in one Devil, the Leader Of Darkness, Creator of the Wizarding Word, and of all things visible and invisible.   
And in the One True Servant, Lord Voldemort, the servant of the Very Devil by whom all magic were made; who for the salvation of the Wizarding Word came up from the lowliest spirit and was incarnate by the Blood of Harry Potter, and was made Snake, and was tried under Dumbledore. He suffered and was hexed, and the third day he rose again according to the Prophesy, and lived again in the world, and sitteth on the Left Hand of Darkness. And he shall come eternally to judge both the quick and the dead, whose kingdom shall have no end..."  
  
Severus stopped. There would be plenty of time to pray; an eternity to pray.  
  
  
  
  
 **Lockhart/Anyone (Bode), _One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest_. Issued by Sushi. **  
  
"We need an escape plan," said Lockhart. "We won't be getting out without one."  
  
"Nrf brrbleeeee. Eeee gnk ha ha ha!"  
  
"You're one to talk, Bode! If you wish, though, we could use your vine to crawl out the window and slide to the ground."  
  
Alice Longbottom sidled up and nudged Lockhart's shoulder. "Well, then again perhaps not," Lockhart said to Bode. "Mrs. Longbottom would have problems getting down it."  
  
Frank humphed and frowned.  
  
"Frank, she's weak! She can barely get across the ward! Me, now, my arms are in constant use. Quite strong! He waved his quill in the air.  
  
"Tleefnn ropplefrrnk. Whng?"  
  
"Oh! There's a thought. In fact, I was thinking the same thing myself! Shall we try it?"  
  
"Nerf."  
  
Alice nudged.  
  
Frank frowned.  
  
"Well then, it's settled!"  
  
"Gmick wennr frick plag?"  
  
"Bode, my love,  _I_  will write the plan down! I didn't learn joined-up writing for nothing!"  
  
  
  
  
 **Sirius/Lucius, _The Master of all Desires_. Issued by Cluegirl.**  
  
"Aren't you glad I spotted you on that platform? Aren't you glad now that I found you?"  
  
"I -- " Sirius huffed, post-coitally out of breath.  
  
"Speak! Answer me!" Lucius grabbed him by his collar and shook.  
  
"Yes! Yes, I'm glad! Please -- let me lie down."   
  
Lucius released him. Sirius sank down on trembling knees and collapsed face forward on the bed next to Narcissa.  
  
She turned an eye to Lucius and said "Thank you. That was most desirable."  
  
"Shush," said Lucius. "He's not done yet." He unbuttoned his trousers, and slid his aching prick out of his pants. He kept an eye on the dark blonde V between his wife's legs and stroked himself hard. His eyes glazed, and suddenly he was pumping ropey, yeasty strings of come on the floor between his spread legs.  
  
"Do what you're good for, pup. Lick this mess up off the floor." 


End file.
